The Wanting Comes In Waves

All Sam/Dean, All The Time

Our Heaven's Built For Two (Duh)

August 2nd, 2012

Current Mood:

depressed

Fic title: Our Heaven’s Built for Two (Duh)Author name:smalltrolvenGenre: Wincest, Established RelationshipPairing: Sam/DeanRating: GWord count: 2,600Characters: Sam Winchester, Dean WinchesterWarnings: Set in season 7 between 7.16 and 7.17, oh and schmoop, so very much schmoopSummary: Sam’s talking to Lucifer during one of his hallucinating episodes, this time about Heaven, which clears some things up for Dean (yes it’s a fix-it fic)Disclaimer: I only own these words, that’s it, nothing else.Authors Note: No apologies for all the schmoop and fix-it-ness, I just needed to write it this way because I didn’t see enough of Dean dealing with Sam’s hallucinations during S7.

“’Bout time.” Dean pulls his hands back out of Sam’s grasp and flops back onto his side of the bed blowing out a frustrated breath.

Sam turns his head to the side to look at Dean to gauge how bad it was this time “Was I out long?”

Dean rolls his eyes, knowing that Sam is wondering what he did during this episode, “Not too bad this time, long enough though”.

Sam raises his eyebrows at his brother’s vague answer, “Long enough for what?

Dean answers quietly, trying to sound matter-of-fact, although he’s really still trying to make sense of what he just heard the hallucinating Sam say while he was out, “You were talking again.”

“What was it this time?” Sam asks, needing to know, but not wanting to know, sometimes it’s not too bad, just stuff about The Cage or Lucifer, but other times, there are things he says that really bother Dean and he hates it that he has so little control over that. Hates hurting his brother without even being there.

“It uh, sounded like you were talking about when we were in Heaven.”

“Huh, that’s weird, why would Lucifer be bringing that up?”

“Well Heaven wasn’t all that great, maybe he was just reminding you of that, show you the Cage wasn’t so bad in comparison or some such bullshit.”Dean says dismissively.

Sam sits up and turns to look down at Dean, “What do you mean? Heaven was way better than the Cage, well it started out pretty great, at least for me it did.”

Dean looks up at him questioningly, really not understanding what he’s talking about, “What, that was so great when you were playing footsie with brace face under the Thanksgiving table?”

Sam shakes his head and lays back down on his side turned so he can see his brother, “No Dean, that’s not the first thing that I saw in Heaven.”

“But that’s the first time I saw you though. You saw something before that?” Dean is beyond surprised, maybe even shocked. He never considered that Sam might have seen something else in Heaven that he hadn’t.

Sam’s not sure why Dean is so surprised, but he tells him anyways, “At first I was in the Impala alone, and then I got out and was holding a box of fireworks and talking to you about lighting them, do you remember that, when we almost burned down that field? God, you just looked so young and happy Dean and you let me hug you and thank you for the longest time. Think that must be my best memory of my whole life.&rdquo

As he finishes his retelling, Sam watches his brother’s face crumple in on itself, eyes instantly filling with near tears, Dean looks mortified and beyond sad, and it doesn’t make any sense, Sam’s just telling him what he saw in Heaven. “Dean what’s wrong?”

Dean sits up abruptly, turns away and wipes the tears that he’ll deny to his dying day away roughly, his heart caught somewhere in his throat choking him with unwanted emotion. All this time he’d thought, well he’d thought that Sam didn’t have any good memories with him in them to experience in Heaven, and here he finds out all this time later that they started out on the exact same one. Damn, why hadn’t they ever talked about this? If he’d only known, he would have done things so differently. God he would have done so many things differently. He turns back around and throws his arms around Sam, pulling him up off the bed, holding him close so that he doesn’t have to show his face.

Sam holds him tightly for awhile, just stroking his back soothingly, and then puts his head on Dean’s shoulder, so he can whisper a little worriedly in his ear, “Dean you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m okay Sammy. Just, can you listen for a second?”

Sam answers emphatically, knowing that this must be really important if Dean’s asking him to listen like this and maybe even crying for god’s sake, he keeps holding Dean though, not wanting to let go at a time like this, “Sure of course.”

Dean breathes in the comforting scent of Sam (Sam=Home=Love=Everything), and speaks quietly into Sam’s neck, “I saw the same thing in Heaven, first I woke up in the Impala, and then I got out and there you were, little you, all excited, holding the giant box of fireworks and then we were lighting them. It was amazing seeing your younger self, dancing around and grinning like a damned fool, hugging me so hard, thanking me for god knows what. That was my first memory too. And all this time Sam, I thought. Well, I thought that you didn’t have any good memories of you and me to replay in Heaven.”

And just like that Sam gets it, it hits him like a werewolf barreling into him unexpectedly, crashing him off his feet, he almost feel like the breath’s been knocked out of him. No wonder Dean’s so upset, how in the world does he even begin to fix something like this. Years of his brother thinking this horrible thing, that he hadn’t loved Dean like Dean has loved him. He squeezes him tightly so tightly that Dean gasps, and Sam suddenly pulls back searching Dean’s face, “Oh. Oh god no, Dean you really thought that? All this time?”

“Well, it’s what I saw.” Dean protests, meeting Sam’s eyes with a flash of defiance covering up the pain.

“Dean, it’s what you were shown! Don’t you remember Zachariah manipulating everything while we were there? All that awful stuff with Mom right before Joshua showed up?”

“But he didn’t manipulate everything, we got in to see Ash in his roadhouse.”

“Sure of course, so what?”

“Don’t you remember what Ash told us?”

“What the soul-mate thing?”

“Duh, yes, the soul-mate thing, remember Winchester-land and all that?”

“What about it?”

“Well we are, soul-mates, I mean, you know that right? At least I think we are. It feels that way to me. And to me that’s important. Isn’t it to you?”

“Yeah I guess.” Dean begrudgingly admits.

“You guess.” Sam scoffs, huffing in no little disgust at his brother’s obtuseness.

“Well how does knowing that change anything?” Dean questions hotly, not understanding what Sam’s getting at.

“Dean if we’re soul-mates then the whole being together thing is okay, like sanctioned by Heaven, meant to be or whatever. And it explains so much about our lives, how we could never be apart for very long, or be with other people in a permanent way. You’re meant for me, I’m meant for you and that’s all there is to it. You know there’s no arguing with Heaven.”

“Yeah I know, believe me I know.” Dean replies with that air of self-confidence borne of years of dealing with angels and their obscure agendas.

Sam tips his head to the side, catching the unsaid thing in Dean’s answer, and not letting it go like the little brother that he’ll always be, “There’s a but in there, c’mon out with it.”

Dean looks over at Sam and sees that look on his face that knows he’s been figured out. Again. He sighs the long-suffering big-brother sigh he’s perfected after all these years, “Fine you got me. Yes of course there’s a but! But what about the rest of your life Sam, you’re really planning to just keep hanging around with me?”

“Duh.” Sam smirks, knowing there isn’t an answer he can give that Dean really wants to listen to or hear, that this is all getting way too chick-flicky for him. Saying something snarky like this will hopefully piss Dean off enough to make him continue the conversation. Sam mentally crosses his fingers because he wants to say this, he knows Dean needs to hear it, that it’s exactly what will help salve the years of bad feeling about them that Dean’s been holding onto.

Dean falls for the bait, and snarks right back at him, “That’s how you answer a question like that?”

“Yeah Dean, duh, c’mon, isn’t it obvious? Of course I’m staying with you. Dude, you’re stuck with me, like it or not. I hope you like it. Except for the crazy hallucinating Lucifer part, I know you don’t like that.” Sam trails off, hoping against hope that Dean will accept his words and let this loving truth settle into his heart.

“Duh.” Dean smiles his half-smile, slanting his eyes over to Sam to see if he’s catching it or not.

Sam smiles and pulls Dean in for a kiss, sealing their obliviousness and ineptitude and future plans in for good. This is them now, no take-backs, no do-overs, them together until they hopefully get to go see what their Heaven is really like when Zachariah isn’t messing with it.

“So you liked that fireworks thing enough to replay it in our Heaven huh?”

“Yeah Dean I did. Don’t hit me or anything, but I think it was the night I let myself fall in love with you.”

“Oh spare me would you? I’d have to hit myself Sammy, same here.”

“Damn we are a pair aren’t we?”

“Heaven says so, so I guess we are.”

“I like being a pair with you Dean.”“Me too Sammy, me too.” Without another word, because he is so done with all the caring and sharing and goddamn crying tonight, Dean makes it clear that it’s time to stop talking and go back to sleep, laying them back down together, tucking Sam close into his chest even though they would probably fit a little better in the opposite configuration now. Dean smoothes Sam’s hair in the same pattern and rhythm he’s used since they were littles stuck in the back seat of the Impala trying to sleep while Dad drove them to the next job, the next motel. Dean feels around in his heart which is still full after hearing Sam’s words, that aching hole that Hell left behind that much smaller now, filled up by knowing that his brother treasures the good things they’ve done together all these years.

Sam whispers so quietly, Dean barely hears him, “Dean I’m sorry you thought that all this time, I wish I’d known, wish we’d talked about Heaven, but when you threw it away, I figured it meant you didn’t believe in the soul-mate thing.”

Dean sighs into Sam’s hair, swallowing against the lump that’s back in his throat, he doesn’t want to talk about this, he really doesn’t, but Sam’s just had another one of his mini-vacations-with-Lucifer and he’s so tired of hearing the broken sadness that’s always in his brother’s voice now, maybe a straight-up, heartfelt, clear apology will help them both feel a little better about how things went down after they got back from their visit to Heaven. It isn’t easy for him to say stuff like this, but sometimes, he mans up and does it anyways, because it’s what Sam needs.

ldquo;You know, I’m sorry too, I wouldn’t have thrown it away, if I’d known about what you just told me tonight. I swear I wouldn’t have Sammy. But I did always believe the soul mate thing, I hope you believe me. It just all seemed so hopeless at that point, that us being soul mates didn’t seem to really matter much compared to the Apocalypse and all. It’s one of the few things in my life I regret doing, throwing away that amulet. I know it hurt you that I tossed it like that, I still miss wearing it.”

Sam sits up abruptly pulling himself out of the shelter of his brother’s arms and strides over to his duffle bag on the other bed, rustling around until he comes out with a small brown paper package. He comes right back and stands next to the bed and holds it out to Dean wordlessly.

“What is this?”

“Duh. Open it and see.”

Dean opens the small package, hands shaking slightly with excitement as he feels the lumpy hardness contained inside. He pulls out the amulet by the leather cord and holds it up so that the slanted light coming in through the blinds catches its brass shine just a bit. His eyes widen in surprise, “How in the world do you even have this?”

“Well, I picked it up out of the trashcan as I left that motel room. I figured it wasn’t important to you anymore but it still meant a lot to me. I thought if anything it would remind me of how much I’d screwed up things between us and how much I’d lost. So I wrapped it up and kept it in my duffle bag.”

“But Soul-less you kept it too?”

“Yeah, I remember he thought it might come in handy to manipulate you if he needed to.”

“God he was a dick.”

“Thanks a lot.” Sam retorts, shifting from foot to foot feeling the guilt settle heavily on his shoulders like an all too-familiar coat.

Dean slaps him in the stomach to snap him out of it, “For the millionth time he wasn’t you Sammy, not even close.”

Sam rubs at the spot where Dean’s hand struck him, the imprint stinging with a sense of penance that he knows he deserves, “I know, but his memories are part of me now, so it feels like it is part of me. I’m glad he did some things right, like finally going back to you, and keeping this. Do you want to wear it again Dean?”

All Dean wants is to yell is, duh, yes of course you idiot, but he doesn’t, he restrains himself and turns the question back onto Sam, “Do you want me to?”

Sam smiles down at him, shrugging off his brother’s attempt to make this only about him, “Duh. Why do you really think I kept it all these years?”

“Well c’mon; put it on me then already.” Dean demands, holding the amulet out to Sam, and sitting up straighter in bed. Sam takes the amulet from Dean and watches Dean’s face as he puts the amulet over his head, settling it down around his neck. Dean looks like one of those religious paintings where a saint is ecstatically receiving some divine gift. Sam can’t help himself, touching Dean’s shoulders, gently caressing his way around the cord of the necklace, stroking down his chest, tugging gently on the amulet. Dean shivers and smiles up at him. “There, now you look right again” Sam pats Dean’s chest firmly over his tattoo.

Dean reaches up and grasps Sam’s hand holding it there over his heart which is most definitely not speeding up, oh no not at all, and looks up at his strong, unwavering, brother, partner, everything, and swallows down the emotion overwhelming him, able to quietly respond, “Thanks Sammy. I can’t tell you how much this uh, means to me.”

“I know you can’t. It’s okay Dean, I get it.”

“Duh, of course you do.”

Sam smiles down at him then, slow and wide, dimples practically devouring his face. “I love you Dean.”

Dean’s face changes into something Sam hasn’t seen in a long time, hope and devotion making him look years younger, he matches Sam’s wide smile, “Duh.”